


Outgrown

by KujiraHanma



Series: Tributes to Season 5 Merlin [1]
Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Canon Era, First Kiss, M/M, Season/Series 05, Traveling, bandits attacking, no magic revealed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-20
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-13 10:14:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17486240
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KujiraHanma/pseuds/KujiraHanma
Summary: This is a tribute to season 5 Merlin. I watched the show recently and could not look away from Merlin's clearly changed body in the last season. I like it - a lot. And so does Arthur.





	1. Chapter 1

The sun just had started to disappear beyond the horizon as it happened. Men clothed in black disguise attacked them from all sides, dark screams of adrenalin and fight. First instinct, Merlin looked at Arthur and saw the king reaching for his sword, jumping off his horse and blocking an attack only seconds in the ambush. Merlin’s senses rushed through the woods to find any hidden assassin, while the knights of Camelot joined the king with their swords. Merlin speeded up his horse, ran out of reach and quickly turned his horse back to face the fight scene. Just as his horse had completed the turn, his hand rose, ancient words speaking, and eyes flashing gold. The crossbows of three hidden assassins, which had been directed at Arthur, shattered into wooden pieces. Merlin’s hand was still raised. He closed it into a fist and pushed back with hard force that was transferred with his magic to their victims, knocking them out. His eyes turning blue after the second spell, he returned to the others, which were finishing one bandit after another. Arthur pulled his sword out of the last fighting bandit as Merlin stopped his horse close to him.  
“Where have you been?”, Arthur questioning his contribution to the fight.  
“You have clearly been in ascendancy of the ambush. There was no need for my presence.”, Merlin lied to hide the fact that he had to get out of sight to use his magic. And that he had saved Arthurs life – for the record. But before Arthur could call him a coward for ‘running off’, he addressed that they had to find a place for camp soon.  
“The sun is down. We are exhausted from a whole day on horseback. Let’s find a safe area to settle for the night.”

 

“We could stay here. The stream will provide us with fresh water to cook and refill our bottles.”, Merlin suggested.  
“No, the river makes too much noise. We won’t hear enemies coming.”, Arthur voiced his concerns.  
“I agree with Merlin, sire. Our bottles are empty. We can catch fish in the morning. And if we decide to make camp close to the riverside, we won’t have troubles to hear a possible attack.”, Sir Leon said as he stepped next to Arthur.  
“One man is on watch-out. Take shifts.”, the king of Camelot ordered, being convinced by his knight, and saw the short glimpse of a smile on Merlin’s face. Arthur could not remember the last time his manservant had smiled. It had caught him off guard and he turned his face away from it quickly. Arthur ordered Percival and Gwaine to setup his tent and Merlin to collect wood, start a fire, help him out of his armour, polish it, clean his sword, cook food, clean the dishes afterwards and feed the horses.  
“When do I rest? There is still a two days travel ahead of us.”, Merlin complained.  
“Not my problem.”, the king simply replied, his back turned to his manservant.  
Leon’s hand rested on Merlin’s shoulder and as he looked at the knight, he said low and quietly, “We will help you with your tasks.”

When Arthur pushed the heavy fabric of his tent apart and stepped out into the fresh and wet morning air, he was surrounded by a woodsy smell, his knights cleaning their weapons and in the middle a hungry burning campfire. His servant was nowhere to be seen. It was very early, not the time yet for Merlin to come and wake him up. But Arthur had decided to leave his tent and look for his servant to help him put on his armour. The sun was warm on his skin, the air cold and moist in his lungs. Birds filled the rustling of leaves with their songs and the river moved calm in the background.  
“Where is Merlin?”, he asked Percival, who was grilling fish at the campfire.  
“He helped fishing. He should still be down at the river, sire.”  
Arthur turned in the direction Percival pointed out with a short gesture of his head. The river was barely visible through the forest. Their camp was as suggested the day before in the woods, surrounded by heavy trees and bushes. Not too close to the water to get discovered by thieves and bandits like fools. He walked down to the riverside but suddenly stopped when Merlin came into vision.  
His servant was in the water, his tunic and breeches removed from his body and hung on a low tree branch. The water covered him up to his hip bones for what Arthur was deeply grateful. But it did not animate him to look away, on the contrary. Arthur saw that Merlin was holding his neckerchief between his hands just underneath the water surface, moving his fingers over the red fabric, twisting it between his hands and repeated the cleaning process. Arthur could not take his eyes off of him. He traced the pale skin up his forearms, the never before recognized short black hair covering them and stopping at his biceps visibly moving – even from the distance. Arthurs gaze continued over to Merlin’s chest, resting at the surprisingly satisfying shape of his pectoral muscles, landscaped by dense chest hair that ended just at level of tiny, rosy nipples. Water droplets splashed against Merlin’s flat and white stomach as he had finished cleaning his neckerchief and had thrown it onto a big stone at the riverside to dry. Something else caught Arthur’s attention there instead of looking for muscle definition. A thin line of hair from his navel down to … the water surface.  
Arthur almost jumped when Sir Leon stepped beside him. He was deeply embarrassed of being caught on starring at Merlin so obviously.  
“When did he become a man?”, he asked, trying to hide the heat creeping up his neck.  
“That is out of my knowledge, my lord.”, Leon answered truthfully what fueled Arthur’s embarrassment even more.  
“That was not my intention to ask.”, he hoped to change the subject quickly, not wanting to talk about who Merlin intended to bed, “I mean, he got … muscles. His body has changed.”  
“The knights started to train him in combat. Easy sword fight for his own defense. Is this out of your interest, sire?”  
“No, no. Its better he is capable of using a sword when one lands in his clumsy hands.”  
“His duties include many tasks of physical work. It is no surprise that his body adapted to the requirements.”, and when Arthur kept staring at Merlin in the stream of water without contributing to the conversation Sir Leon added, “He asked to refresh himself before breakfast. He will be with us any moment.”  
“Thank you, Sir Leon.”  
Arthur could see his knight returning to the others and thanked to God that he was not asking any questions. But Arthur stayed where he was – his eyes still on Merlin.  
Being left alone by his knight, the moment hit Arthur again. He was fascinated. While Leon had joined him, Merlin had lowered his body into the river and had washed his arms and torso. For seconds, Merlin had even vanished from the surface completely. And then he had reappeared, water running down his tall body. This had happened when Arthur had not been contributing to their conversation. His attention had been captured completely, holding his breath. The water was still running out of Merlin’s pitch black hair and down his face – over the high and sharp cheekbones, with glistering plump lips – further down his broad neck, chest and rejoining the river after the flat, pale stomach. When Merlin raised his hands and moved them through his hair to dry them off, he made eye contact with his king.  
“My lord?”, his voice shocked Arthur out of his stare. “Is there something you need?”  
Arthur cleared his throat and tried to cool down when a heatwave of embarrassment stroke his body. His heart was hammering in his chest so loud the young king could have sworn it was audible over the brawling of the stream.  
“I need to get dressed.”, he managed to say and turn to leave before Merlin could step out of the river.


	2. Chapter 2

Merlin entered Arthur’s tent to do as asked of him. He immediately took pieces of Arthur’s armour off the ground and turned towards him to place them on his body. He held the heavy chest protector over his head to fit it on his shoulders. Arthur did not say a word – just looked at Merlin, recognizing how easily he was holding the heavy piece of metal armour in his hands – steady above Arthurs head. He tried to establish some eye contact with his manservant but it seemed obvious that Merlin was avoiding him. After he had lowered it onto Arthur’s shoulders, Merlin turned behind his back and adjusted the leather straps as he had done almost every day for a decade now. It was routine, easy procedure, movements choreographed like a dance. But for Arthur, this time was different. He recognized Merlin’s strength and his hands – thick fingers from the many physical tasks he did for his king, cracked skin at the fingertips from soap, cleaning and polishing.  
“Where is your beloved kerchief? I barely see you without it.”, he tried to start a conversation.  
“It is wet. It would not dry properly if I had put it on. And it would wet my tunic.”, Merlin answered, normal tone, friendly, still not looking Arthur in the eye when he returned in front of him. His fingers slipped between the collar of the king’s undergarment and the chest protection to check for potential uncomfortableness. Again, routine procedure. But when Merlin’s warm fingers brushed Arthur’s skin in the movement, air was sucked sharply into his lungs between his teeth.  
“Understandable.”, he cleared his throat to cover the tightness in his voice. Talking about Merlin’s neckerchief, his gaze shifted. It was then when he looked, really looked, at Merlin’s neck and discovered the black chest hair appearing at his collar up close to his sharp Adam’s apple.  
Arthur was more than relieved to notice that his chest protection was in place and Merlin picked up the pieces for his arms. He was making a fool of himself. Heating for the man in front of him like a maiden. This was ridiculous!  
“You are dressed, my lord,” Merlin’s voice brought his attention back to the physical world, feeling the hands vanishing from his arm … the armour on his body, “I am certain breakfast is ready.”  
“Excellent,” Arthur managed to say before Merlin disappeared behind the fabric to escape the tent.

Later, already traveling on horseback, Merlin was riding in front of Arthur. Sir Leon had taken the lead and Gwaine, Percival and Elyan stayed behind their king, flanking him from time to time. When the chatter had died down, Arthur remained investigating Merlin’s back intensely. He traced the movement of the brown, worn leather jacket. How it fitted around his shoulders much nicer than the time Merlin had entered his service at the prince’s side. How the musculature above the shoulder blades pushed the clothing in a more proper shape. And for the most, how the gap between them gave the fabric possibility to dance. Arthur imagined Merlin riding topless on his horse, so he could actually see the muscles move, shift and work against the rhythmic of the horse’s pace. How he would be able to see the cleft above his backbone.

One last day ride away from Camelot and the citadel, Arthur treated his knights with a night’s stay in a village’s shelter. It was part of the village’s tavern, additionally providing accommodations for tired (and wealthier) travelers. The knights appreciated and thanked for the king’s generosity.  
It was after a rich dinner, during which Arthur was actively avoiding to stare inappropriately at Merlin again, that the knights started drinking in the tavern. It was a warm and relaxed atmosphere, filled with laughter and exciting, adventurous stories. He had already changed into lighter clothing for the meal. Arthur was well aware of his servant being in conversation with Gwaine most of the time. But when the second round of drinks had been ordered, Merlin excused himself.  
“Call for my service at any time, my king.”, Merlin politely made his fare-wells to Arthur and to the ears of the public. He waited for his king to nod until he turned on his heels and took the stairs to the quarters.

Two beers later, Arthur found himself confronted with the door to Merlin’s accommodation. He knocked but did not wait for an answer to walked in. Merlin could have been asleep. When he entered the room, his servant had just gotten to his feet, looking at him silently. Merlin had been surrounded by a constant heavily seriousness, lately. Arthur could not name it, define its origin, but it had let his friend loose his smile.  
“You deserve some fun. Join the others. Drink with them.”, he offered.  
“I am not going to the tavern.”, Merlin answered and sat down at the bed to kind of proof his point.  
“Why? You love the tavern.”, Arthur replied and sat down on the bed next to him.  
“I am not in the mood.”  
It was a mystery to Arthur why his manservant was acting extra strange the last few days. What was Merlin’s problem?  
“What did I do to upset you?”  
“I’m not upset.”  
“There is clearly something going on with you.”  
“Why are you not drinking with your knights?”  
“I was! But as king of Camelot I cannot drink myself senseless with common people around. I have a reputation to maintain.”  
Suddenly, Merlin stayed quiet. And Arthur waited patiently. He had not come to shout at him. Merlin was not only his servant – he was his friend. The sudden silence that filled the room was surprisingly comfortable. Merlin was sitting next to Arthur, head bowed down, his hands in his lap and shoulders hanging. Arthur could not avert his gaze from Merlin’s face. He was sitting close enough to detect so many details of his facial traits. The orange light of the candle, which had been lit on the counter, was dancing over Merlin’s face, shadows tracing his nose, cheekbone and chin.  
“It’s nothing.” – It was almost a whisper.  
Arthur reached out and touched Merlin’s face. He waited to be rejected but remained accepted. He turned Merlin’s face towards him, tracing the shadows and the light changing on his skin. He looked him in the eye, calm and waiting. Arthur was not sure what he was waiting for. Feeling the short stubble of facial hair under his thumb, he started to move it over the rough skin, experiencing the scratch from a beard growing over days of traveling. With a hot and strong thud, he felt his heart beating. From the sudden adrenalin rushing through his body, he looked back into the clear blue eyes. And finally, they were looking back at him. It was like the atmosphere in the room had changed. As his body would produce a scent like flowers did to attract bees and charge the air with a foreign longing. His thumb stopped moving and when Arthur’s gaze wandered over the high cheekbones, down to where the clear skin developed into short, black stubble, his thumb appeared right at the corner of Merlin’s incredibly well-shaped lips. Voluminous lips with plump curves. And then, the face ended in a broad, masculine chin, dipping in an almost not recognizable dimple. Arthur’s thumb lifted barley – still remaining in feather-light contact – relocating and wandering over Merlin’s well-shaped upper lip. He could see the red and soft skin move under his touch, tearing it in the direction of the force he applied and returning back to their perfect shape when lifting his thumb ever so slightly. He did not recognize his body shifting closer. Just a short inhale of air from Merlin before Arthur traced his thumb to the corner of his mouth, the lower lip, and dipping the tip of his thumb between them. The sudden touch of heat and wetness jumped his heart into a feverish race and the overwhelming sensation, rushing through his entire body, let him close the remaining distance between them. He pressed his lips against Merlin’s, his thumb moved out of the way just before touching the sensitive flesh, a wall of heat hitting him and clouding his senses. He leaned in, increasing the heart-racing pressure against the body he was examining with his eyes since he had seen Merlin bathing in the stream. When he felt a counterpressure against his lips, Arthur opened his jaw, kissed again with Merlin’s upper lip between his – inducing first contact of saliva. He could hear Merlin inhale sharply through his nose and after a false moment of increased pressure against his lips, he withdrew.  
He could achingly feel their lips parting. Arthur’s hand was holding onto Merlin’s neck, the fabric of the red kerchief between his fingers and on hot skin. He found Merlin’s eyes – dark and wild. Their heavy breathing breaking the hot air. A moment later, Merlin’s hand was fisting Arthur’s tunic, pulling him into a second kiss that let them meet with open, eager mouths and tongues touching. Arthur felt a sun-ripened fruit exploding in his chest and filling his body with sweet, feverish passion. Just as their tongues attempted to twist against each other, Merlin retrieved again.  
“We can’t do this,“ he breathed hard like he was chased by someone seeking for his life. He turned towards the window, opened it.  
Not reasonably thinking, Arthur stood up, turned Merlin round and pulled him in another kiss. Bodies aligned, Arthur sat back down at the bed, pulling Merlin with him, huffing hot against his lips as he seated him onto his lap. The cool night air coming in through the opened window made them even more aware of the heat radiating from their bodies. Arthur was occupied by the intense kiss, Merlin’s tongue in his mouth and the hand on his back, the other one in his hair. And then he explored the broad back he was far more than looking at, touching it, feeling the muscles shifting under the thin leather jacket – dipping his fingers into the gap of Merlin’s spine, tracing vertebra after vertebra. His hands were wandering lower and lower, passing the waistband of Merlin’s breeches and cupping his arse. Squeezing his cheeks, Merlin moaned, letting go of Arthur’s lips, pressing him against his chest. Arthur found himself embraced against Merlin’s hard and hot body, his face touched by soft skin of Merlin’s neck and the fabric of the neckerchief under his chin.  
“We have to stop.”, Merlin repeated.  
Arthur felt Merlin’s hands at his shoulders, holding him into place. He was breathing so heavily, like someone had tried to strangle him to death and almost succeeded. 

It was too much. Too much for Merlin to bear. His destiny, hiding the truth about himself, the immense responsibility his great magical powers carried with them, using them for good, being born to serve the one and only king of a greater Albion. It was too much. Merlin could deal with his unnecessary additional unrequited love for Arthur – but this? This heat? This passion? It was crashing him. They were the best and most exciting emotions he had ever felt. But even being the most powerful sorcerer that ever walked the earth – this was something he could not bear.

Merlin loosened the grip around Arthur, rose from his lap and stumbled to the ground.  
“Why?”, Arthur asked as he regained some of his breath, “You clearly enjoyed it as much as I did.”  
“That’s the problem.”, Merlin sat on the floor, looking at Arthur with a look too serious in his eyes, “I can’t remain in your service if we would continue.”  
“Nobody said that. Nobody has to know.”, Arthur replied.  
“I just can’t, Arthur.”

And it was something the future should hold if both were actually able to deny the heat and force towards each other and the passion that could flame within them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this is still for teen audience. I was carried away in the moment ...


End file.
